A Day at the Beach
by daarb123
Summary: Even soldiers need their mothers sometimes. Roach remembers a day from his childhood, all in a day's work. Rated T to be safe. RoachxGhost friendship, slight angst. Oneshot. Please review!


A Day at the Beach: A Modern Warfare Fanfic

_Author's Note: So, this idea popped into my head one day, and I decided to do something about it. That idea turned into this. I really hope you enjoy, and as always, please, **REVIEW!**_

Disclaimer: I do not own the Call of Duty franchise or any of its characters. Infinity Ward does. I do, however, own Annie Sanderson. Shame on you, IW, for not creating a Mom for Roach.

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><p><strong>1350 Hours, March 23rd, 2016<strong>

**A Day at the Beach**

**Sgt. Gary "Roach" Sanderson**

**Nairobi, Kenya**

"Light that sucker up, Roach!" Meat yelled, blasting away with his new favorite weapon, an MP5K with a heavily customized rail system. "Come on!", he taunted, spraying in the general direction of the enemy.

Inwardly sighing to himself, Roach slotted a fresh magazine into his G36K. Why they gave him a G36K he would never know, as the weapon was rarely seen (at least in the task force) and while reliable and a great performer, it wasn't what he trained with and so cut down on his combat efficiency. Luckily he had a spare magwell conversion kit lying around for his G36C that fit M4 magazines, otherwise he would have had to go in with a less than comfortable amount of ammunition.

Finished reloading, Roach leveled the rifle and absentmindedly topped two of the militia that came too close. Meat was still shouting and screaming beside him, firing the tiny MP5K all over the place. Typical Meat, spraying instead of shooting properly. The short barrel didn't help accuracy either.

Still kinda out of it, Roach was busy mindlessly shooting down idiotic militia when he spotted something out of the corner of his eye. Turning to look, he saw that it was a sniper on a roof, hefting a menacing looking Dragunov sniper rifle, aimed straight at Meat. Roach was just about to call out when the shot came. When he looked again, Meat was still screaming profanities while the body of the sniper lay in a twisted heap on the roof. Toad's voice came in over the radio.

"You owe me another beer, Meat. For saving your ass. _Again_."

Roach allowed himself a small smile, glancing towards the secluded area where Toad was holed up with his M24. Yet another time the sniper had covered their asses. A grenade went off nearby, causing Roach to stumble a little and disorient him. He managed to get into cover before a barrage of bullets descended onto him.

"Let's go! Roach, move up! We're not losing this guy!" Meat signaled furiously while slamming a fresh mag into the stubby SMG. "'Tavish will have our necks if we do!"

Nodding to no one in particular, Roach scrambled over the chest high wall he was using, gunning down several Militia as he moved to flank them. Several more shots rang out, and several more bodies hit the floor. Making a mental note to thank Toad again for covering him, Roach proceeded to mechanically mow down all the men he had just managed to flank.

1010010010101001

Meat had the target at gunpoint, an easy task with the stubby SMG he was packing, and was currently radioing for evac. Roach was on overwatch, and swept his rifle around in a gentle arc. The area was quiet. Absentmindedly, he scratched at a mosquito bite on his neck, wondering where Toad was. The sniper was a damn marvel at hiding. For all he knew, he could have been sniping upside down while hanging from a tree.

Roach sighed. It was all in a day's work.

"Hey, dreamer-boy. Wake up, we're moving." Meat waved a hand in front of Roach's face, MP5K still pointed at the guy. As the two moved towards their LZ, with Meat unceremoniously shoving the target in front of him, Roach let his mind wander off once more. For some reason, his mind decided to go back to a day when he was younger, when there was no war to fight. The weight of the combat gear that had always somehow bugged him in the past faded away as he lost himself in his memories...

100100100101011

"Gary! Come on! Come play with your sister!"

Annie Sanderson beckoned to her son, who was sitting in a little corner of the beach, absentmindedly toying with some crabs he found with a stick. After a few more seconds of calling, Annie stood up and walked over to the ten year old and sat beside him.

"Whatcha doin', Gary?"

"Playing with crabs. They're my best friends."

"Really? Would you like to introduce me?" Annie looked straight into Gary's eyes, emerald green boring into brilliant blue. Blue eyes that looked so much like his father's who Annie hasn't seen for the better part of a year. Gary shrugged.

"Okay."

Over the next hour Gary would slowly introduce each crab to his mother, talking about what each crab liked, their favorite songs, and what he usually did with them. All the while, Annie listened with rapt attention, completely mesmerized in the details of a crab's life as Gary brought the simple creatures to life. At the end, Annie found that she had lost track of time, and gently pulled Gary up, bringing him from the crabs.

"I really enjoyed meeting your crabs, Gary. Play with them next time?" she said, stooping down low so that they were at eye level.

They locked eyes once more. A few seconds passed, and Gary looked away at the ground.

"Okay." He took his mother's hand, and they walked to collect their things and the youngest Sanderson from the beach.

1010100101

What Gary didn't know was that would be one of the last times he would see his mother with him. He remembered catching a saddened look in her eyes that afternoon, wondering what it was while happily talking about those stupid crabs that seemed so interesting at the time. A few weeks later, his father would come home, lovingly hugging his family after a long time in active duty. The next night he would break down in front of them, clutching Annie's hand while sobbing helplessly into her shoulder while the children watched. Nights passed, and Annie grew weak. Eventually she would get to the point where she couldn't walk, and she was hospitalized. Gary remembered being taken to the hospital to see her, where she would weakly stroke his short blond hair, whispering sweet things in his ear with all these tubes and wires sticking into her. Hushed voices outside the hallway, a short cry of despair, and his father picking him up and holding him for a long time. His mother, Annie Jocelyn Sanderson, died that night, against an enemy she couldn't fight.

Gary hadn't understood it then.

He remembered standing beside his father and sister at her funeral (what the heck was a funeral to a ten-year-old anyway?), looking at all the people dressed in black and crying. He tugs at his father, asks where his mother is. He remembers the sad smile, those blue eyes filling with new tears as he is picked up and kissed on the head.

"Mommy's gone now, Gary. She's in a better place."

Gary Sanderson didn't understand then.

10101010010101

As they got on the chopper, prisoner in hand, Roach sat down in a seat, chucking his rifle to the ground and holding his head in his hands. He used to think like this all the time, years after her death. It gradually passed when he enlisted, but still occasionally flared up. Never this vivid, this intense. He had thought they had only gone three steps when he saw the chopper, three klicks outside the city.

Sometimes, Roach missed his mother.

"Roach?" Meat looked at him in concern, having injected the prisoner with a mild sedative to keep him quiet. "You okay, Gary?" Meat never called Roach by his real name. Unless it was important.

Roach looked up, bleary-eyed.

"Yeah. I'm fine. Just a little tired, that's all."

Meat nodded, and stared out a window, eventually falling asleep, snoring obnoxiously loudly. Toad, who had seemingly materialized out of thin air at the chopper, shook his head in disgust as he tended to the prisoner. Roach sat with his back against the wall, thinking.

1010101

Somewhere during the ride home Roach must have slept as well, since he found himself being shaken by Ghost.

"Roach. You're home."

He groaned, and lazily picked up his rifle to climb off the chopper, only to stumble and fall onto the hard concrete landing pad. Ghost hurried to his side, hauling him off the ground and putting an arm around him. The two friends slowly walked towards the medbay, Ghost asking some questions while Roach stumbled along.

"You hit?"

"No."

"You hungry?"

"No."

"You horny?"

"No."

"Then what's wrong? Why are you stumbling around like this?"

Roach stopped, and turned to face his friend, blue eyes beginning to brim with tears.

"I miss my mother."

And with that, Roach cried like never before onto Ghost's shoulder, all his emotions bottled up for so long finally let out. Ghost was unsure how to react, resorting to awkwardly patting Roach's back while his body trembled and shook with each sob. The friends stayed like that for a long time.

"Come on. You can stay with me in my room if you want."

Roach sniffles, gets off Ghost, and walks with him to the barracks.

Even a soldier needs his mother sometimes.

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><p><strong>AN: Ohhh, it makes me sad just reading it again. I know, I know. Not exactly what you imagined, yeah? But still, it was an idea, and that flourished into this wonderful little piece that I'm proud to share with you guys. Please review and tell me what you think! I might do some more of these!**


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